


Perchance to Meet

by kittypox



Series: Epic Love [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dad Kogane - Freeform, Epic Love, Gen, I call him Tex, The fateful meeting, it's a long story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 05:31:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14325666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittypox/pseuds/kittypox
Summary: It’s Tex’s job to see to the recovery and research of alien crafts. His absence on the recovery team for the recent crash would be detrimental. It’s his job and even if he isn’t part of the recovery crew, no one had technically told him that he couldn’t go off and investigate on his own.





	Perchance to Meet

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collab with the wonderful, amazing, super talented jin-06! We both fell in love with Krolia and her human lover and could not be stopped! I was inspired by a comic page she had published on twitter about a garrison Tex confronting Iverson about a crash and asked if I could write something about it. Low and behold…we made this together! She has some beautiful pictures to go along with this fic up on her blog! Please go take a look-see! (http://jin-06.tumblr.com/)

News traveled fast among garrison staff—especially when the news was meant only for those with specialized clearance. There was no such thing as privacy in such a close-knit community. Before the craft had crashed into garrison territory, word had already spread like fire among staff and students alike about the unidentified object. The following lock down of the premises did little to quell the flames of rumor. Before Tex had even arrived at the emergency staff meeting, he had heard tales of UFOs to spying satellites. Whatever it was that had come falling from the sky, it was safe to assume that it was nothing so mundane as a meteor. The garrison would not be on such high alert were it not something of great importance.

A fellow greenie bumped into him as they hastily made their way to the conference room. Patterson lifted a brow at him, eyes wide and curious. 

“Heard any news?” he asked.

Tex shook his head. “Just rumors. Must be something big though.”

Big enough to demand the immediate attention of every staff member. The whole of the garrison faculty piled into the largest conference room available, stuffed full, worried instructors leaning against walls and sitting on the floor when the table became full. A hush fell over the crowd as Iverson entered, face grim and pinched. That didn’t say anything, in Tex’s opinion; the man always looked like he had just bitten into a lemon. The others, however, read something in the man’s expression that he did not. The tension in the air spiked.

“Let’s begin.” Iverson announced, jerking the projector into life, a blurred image flashing onto the screen beside him. 

There were several gasps; the room broke into whispers. Tex frowned, narrowing his eyes at the photo. It was difficult to make out much through the photographic blur; there was clearly an object, sporting what appeared to be triangular wings. A ship, if one squinted. It was flimsy evidence at best. 

“As I’m sure all of you know, at 20:00 hours an object of unknown origin crashed in the desert. We’re assembling a team to set up a perimeter and investigate. We’ll contact those we’re interested in. In the meanwhile, it is everyone’s duty to keep the studentbody in the dark. No student is to leave the premises. A brief will be sent out when we have further news. Dismissed.”

It was a disappointing meeting for many. Tex had expected more, or at least he had hoped for more. There wasn’t even a suggestion made as to the object’s make, purpose, or origin. It was their duty to theorize, debunk, and conclude on these matters. He frowned as he left, wondering if perhaps he knew what the unknown object was. 

“Think they’ll ask you?” Patterson asked, following him out the door.

Tex shrugged. He would think that the garrison would command him on the team; they would be foolish if they didn’t. He was one of few who had experience in aircraft retrieval and examination. Already, he had a few theories to posit. There was little to work with beyond that single blurred photo, but he had a vague recollection of seeing something similar not too long ago. 

Tex could not shake the feeling that something great was about to take place. He needed to be there. He needed to be a part of that team. Unlike many of his peers, he knew about alien ships and technology. He had first hand experience. They would be stupid not to use him, he thought, veering suddenly to follow Iverson down the hall. 

“Iverson!”

The man paused, turning a dark glower on him. 

He caught up to the man, skidding to a halt a short distance away. 

“Iverson, let me investigate the case.” Tex blurted. Time was short; there was no place for preamble. “You know I have some experience with--”

Iverson scoffed loudly, turning away before he could finish his request. “Kogane! Please,” the disdain was clear in his tone, “this is a very serious matter; you’re still a newbie on probation. I won’t give the case to you.”

“With all due respect,” which Tex loathed to give the man, “that would be a mistake. I’m one of few staff members here who have experience in dealing with potential alien crafts and technology. It would be a mistake not to send me.”

A tense beat of silence passed between the two. At his back, Tex could sense Patterson watching closely. Perhaps there were others watching as well; his background was no secret among the other staff. Most of them likely assumed that he would be on the investigative team. This turn of events was...shocking.

A heavy sigh laced with annoyance slipped past Iverson’s lips. “I have to report to my superiors.”

The conversation was over. Or so it was in Iverson’s opinion. Patterson slid to Tex’s side and clapped him on the shoulder. It had been an embarrassing rebuff with no few witnesses. Tex’s pride was not hurt though; it was no secret now that Iverson thought little of him, but Tex would be damned if he allowed some fool’s ignorant assumption of him to hinder a successful craft recovery. He had been drafted into the Galaxy Garrison staff for a reason and that reason had just crashed right into their lap. 

He could work around the situation, Tex decided, shrugging Patterson off and stalking away. The gears of his mind had begun to click and whir, formulating a plan. He would just have to investigate on his own. There would be no harm in that; after all, Iverson had only mentioned students being barred from leaving the campus premises. There was nothing stopping him from taking an evening stroll. And if he just so happened to come across the crash site, well that would just be a happy coincidence. 

=

Iverson had been a fool not to have asked for his participation on this project; Tex knew that within ten minutes of his trailing after the dispatched team of scientists. One day he would ask his peers exactly what qualified them as having expertise in the field of craft recovery; as far as he could tell, the lot of them were fumbling around in the dark. Had they any real experience, they would have caught a number of vital details right off the bat, not the least of which being that the site they were heading towards was little more than a decoy.

“Just like New Mexico.” Tex sighed, lowering his binoculars.

Well, if they were too stupid to know that they were heading straight for a diversion, that was their problem. He had offered his assistance; if Iverson was too proud or stupid to accept the olive branch offered, it was on his shoulders. 

Someone had to investigate, Tex reasoned, throwing his vehicle into gear and veering away from the canyon crest. While Iverson’s team hauled in scrap and waste, he would be scouring the actual wreckage. Bitter? Him? He smirked; maybe he was just a tad jaded. If Iverson got shit for not assigning the only staff member with experience to the team and letting dangerous material slip past his notice, he would not feel bad about it.

Finding the crash site—the _real_ crash site—wasn’t difficult at all. As it had been in the last incident he had worked on, the ship had made contact ten or fifteen miles from the decoy crash. A seismic indicator pointed him in the direction, he just had to keep his eyes open. Just like before, he told himself, drumming his sweaty fingers against the steering wheel. The impact was just like the last one, no reason not to believe that this would be any different. He would track the ship, briefly scour the wreckage, and call into base for backup. An easy task. Just like before.

And just like before, the curl of black smoke arcing high into the sky alerted him that he was drawing near to the site. He parked a distance away, rummaging through the back of the vehicle and finding a respirator. There was no telling what types of toxins the ship might be spilling out. Slipping the mask over his nose and mouth, he pulled on a set of gloves and approached.

This was not just like before, Tex realized within a moment of examination. The ship he was staring at was at least twice the size of the craft recovered in New Mexico. A different purpose, he thought, circling in search of an entrance. Intensive research on the last ship had shown it to be some sort of escape pod; what he stared at then was a full fledged ship. If he was able to get inside, Tex thought it likely he would discover more than just emergency food rations and a few communication devices set to emergency frequencies. There was a chance they could recover a fully functional alien craft. He reached for a latch that appeared to be connected to a door—and paused suddenly. 

There was a chance that he was the first to recover fully functional alien technology. There was also the chance that he would be the first to encounter—or be slaughtered by—alien life. Tex took a step back. He ought to call for backup. He had thought it himself; this was a space craft. Someone or something had steered it to earth. 

It was unsafe, he decided, retreating back a step. 

He turned back to the vehicle, tossing his respirator into the backseat and reaching through the window to grasp the radio, when a cold, metal object settled against the back of his skull. Tex went rigid, dropping the radio and raising his hands in placation.

“Don’t move.” A heavily accented voice commanded.

“I’m not.” He kept his voice steady, eyes trained in the distance. 

The object remained pressed to the back of his head. It was a gun, he thought; too heavy and cold to be anything else. Then again, if he was dealing with alien technology---reality struck Tex suddenly. He was dealing with an alien. There was a survivor. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked, daring to turn his head and sneak a glance. 

The gun jabbed painfully into his head. “I said don’t move.”

For a long moment, he stood, awaiting direction. His obedience appeared unexpected. No further instruction came. He sensed the —woman, his mind supplied; the voice was undeniably female—shift uncomfortably. The muzzle of the gun remained. It was beginning to grow irritating.

Against better judgment, Tex snapped. “Are we just going to stand here all night?”

The woman did not appreciate his insolence. The gun dug in harder. If he had to guess, Tex supposed she was weighing her options. As hard as the garrison strove to find alien life, there was a good chance that aliens did not want to meet them. Surely his arrival on the scene was a hindrance to this being. He was a loose end now, a witness to something better left unseen. She had come for a reason and now he stood between her and her goal. 

“Can I turn around and speak to you?”

“Why would I speak to _you_?”

Because he needed to barter for his life, Tex thought with a grimace. “Please.”

The gun lowered. He dropped his hands slowly, mindful not to let them stray too close to his sides where his gun was concealed. A tense situation like that could escalate easily and he wished to escape with his life, please and thank you. At the moment, he wagered that his chances of walking away were fifty/fifty. If he did walk away, he didn’t know what condition he might be in; blinded perhaps so he could not share what he had seen, or perhaps with many broken limbs as a solid reminder to keep his mouth shut.

When he turned, the gun was still trained at his head. Tex blinked, raising his head so he could gaze eye to eye with---

“Holy hell, you’re tall.”

The woman’s face contorted briefly in irritation. “Speak, human.”

Hopefully something more intelligent would come out. Tex swallowed heavily. He had been trained for this. “My name is--”

“I don’t care who you are; what do you want?”

He took a breath. Play it cool. “I come from the Galaxy Garrison; I’m a pilot and technician at their facility and was assigned to recover any wreckage from your landing.”

On second thought, he realized that may not have been the ideal thing to say to an alien recently crashed and running on high tensions. She snarled, leaning down to growl in his face. “You will not be taking my craft!”

“I didn’t expect to find you alive—I won’t take it from you.” If the gun shoved between his eyes was any indication, she did not believe him. “Jesus, lady! Calm down with the gun in my face! I’m just here to see if you’re alright!”

“Why should I believe you?” She hissed. “I know of your species.”

If she were in any way connected to the number of crafts that had crashed over the years, he supposed that she and her kind would know a thing or two about the human race. It would undoubtedly be an ugly picture in their minds. Somehow, he would need to combat her preconceived notions. 

“True, you have no reason to believe me.” He paused suddenly, eyes flicking towards the sky. “You bring someone else with you?”

She frowned. “What?”

He lifted a finger. “We have company—and that isn’t one of my company’s ships.”

She spun, dropping her weapon’s muzzle, and stared in dismay at the blur of fire quickly approaching them. For the briefest of moments there was alarm written on her face. The expression was gone a moment later, banished as cold determination took over. 

Tex was no longer of importance. The woman stalked by him, shooting him a scathing look, before ripping open the hatch to her ship and stepping inside. A moment later a number of weapons was thrown to the ground. They resembled riffles in design, but Tex knew that these particular weapons could cause much more damage than even a human assault rifle. 

The woman reappeared, a belt now wrapped loosely around her waist, packs of what he assumed to be ammunition dangling from the loops. “If you value your life, leave now.”

Tex’s eyes flicked again to the blur of fire that was approaching. “Not that I don’t value my life, but it’s technically my job to assist in whatever way I can to maintain peaceful relations between earth and—whatever is out there. Care to give me an explanation as to what it is that’s coming that has you so on edge?”

The woman narrowed her eyes at him. Her annoyance was palpable. She was mute for so long, Tex was certain she would ignore him, but she at last offered a biting, “In a word, tyranny.”

Not much of an answer, but it was ominous enough to get the point across. He had as of yet to decide if this amazoness woman was friend or foe, but whoever she was running from seemed to be undeniably evil. Or so she was leading him to believe. There were thousands of questions to be asked, but there was not the time. A blast of sand washed over them as the new ship landed.

The woman shielded her eyes with a hand, clutching her gun firmly. “Human.” she grunted. “Leave. They will kill you.”

“Who exactly are _they_?” Tex asked, yanking a hand over his face. 

“Servants of the galra empire.”

“Galra.” Tex had the vaguest recollection of the name. He looked towards his company, suspicious.

A door in the new ship opened. The woman took up firing stance. 

“Human! Go!”

He should have listened, Tex thought a split second later when a shot rang out and he was on the ground. He blinked wildly, smelling burnt--- _burnt what?_ he wondered frantically, taking stock of himself. After the initial shock wore off, he realized that he was unharmed. The shot had undoubtedly been aimed at his head, but his assassin had misjudged his height. Thank god for that. The blast of energy had grazed his ear and singed his hair, but he was otherwise fine. With a strangled groan, he got to his feet, pressing the heel of his palm to his nicked ear. 

“Son of a bitch, that hurt.”

The woman spared him a glance, eyes wide. “You’re alive.”

Damn right he was alive, and he was mad as hell too. Tex growled low in his throat, staring at the trio of armored soldiers carefully crossing the dunes towards them. Pacifism had to be shelved for the moment. Anyone willing to shoot an innocent bystander clearly was not a harmless visitor. Two could play the shoot-first-ask-questions-later game.

Stalking back to the vehicle, he threw his uniform jacket onto the seat, fishing in the back for his weapon of choice. It may not have been garrison issued, but it would pack a punch—which was just what these interlopers needed. Walking back, he took a place next to the woman, cocking the shot gun and leveling its sights on the nearest soldier.

She eyed him in wonder. “What are you doing? What is that?”

“I’m protecting my planet.” he bit out. “And this is a shotgun. These assholes picked the wrong human to fuck with.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

Tex scoffed. “Lady, I have studied your kind, dissected your dead, torn apart your ships and studied your technology. If there is one thing I know about your kind, it’s that you’re human too. I know what your armor can withstand and I know where to aim at it. Don’t dismiss me as useless just yet.”

She blinked at him, struggling to make sense of what he said when a flash of energy struck the ground between them. At once, the air erupted in a chorus of shots and blasts. Through the horrible cacophony, the deafening boom of the shotgun range proud. His first shot hit the advancing intruder dead center of the chest, sending him stumbling back a step. The hit caused just enough surprise for the armored giant to make the mistake Tex was hoping he would make. Leveling the gun again, he sought out the chink in the armor he knew was there and shot. 

A stunned hush fell over the trio of soldiers as their leader floundered, losing balancing and crashing to the ground in a spray of blood. 

“What did you do?!” the woman hissed, whipping her head to stare at him in awe.

Tex took the opportunity to reload. “I told you; I know how strong your armor is. Don’t assume my primitive species can’t kill you just because you’re more technologically advanced.” 

“Well, you better be able to do that again, because they cannot be left alive. If they escape, they will report to their commanders and bring the whole of the empire down upon your planet. We cannot allow that to happen!”

No, they could not. It was more than their lives at stake now; this battle could plunge earth into galactic war. When they were finished with this messy business, Tex was determined to pin this lady alien down and get some clear answers as to what the hell was going on. If there was war brewing in the outer edges of the universe, earth needed to be ready for it. Aliens had already made their way to the planet for one reason or another; earth was clearly on the radar. 

“Look out!” the woman snapped.

Her hand shot out, yanking him by the shoulder. Her reflexes had not been fast enough. Bright, hot pain erupted in his head and Tex’s knees gave out. He cursed loudly, slamming his hand over his eyes where the worst of the pain was radiating from. For several long moments, he curled in on himself, groaning and gasping in pain. Blood gushed through the gaps in his fingers, running down his cheek and nose, pooling in the corner of his mouth.

Did he still have an eye, he worried. Could he still see? Taking his hand away, he was dismayed to find his vision wavering, a dark shade drawn over the socket where his eye had been. He cursed again, groping in the sand for his gun. The grains stuck to his bloodied hand, grinding irritatingly into his palm as he fumbled to get a solid grip on the barrel and take aim.

He fired some six or eight shots—Tex was not certain. His head was hazy, vision spinning in and out of focus as he struggled to train his sights on the last two soldiers. Pained, outraged cries reached his ears several times, but he could not tell if the damage dealt was fatal or not. His hands began shaking. His vision was spinning, growing black at the edges. 

_Don’t pass out_ , he warned himself, gripping his gun tightly. The very planet depended on him seeing this battle to the finish. Alas, he could not control his shocked body. Weightlessness came over him, blackness rushed in, and he fell from consciousness.

=

...and came back to a gentle touch, prodding at a burning point of agony above his eye. Peeling his lids open was a herculean feat, but he managed it, coming face to face with the violet eyes of the lady warrior.

“You...”

She paused in her careful dabbing and grabbed his chin firmly, examining his pupils. “You have a concussion. Be still.”

Just a concussion, Tex thought, leaning back and taking a deep breath. Somehow, he was still alive. He had managed to keep his skin. He lifted a shaky hand to his eye, only to have it slapped away and the woman to resume her surprisingly gentle administrations. The crushing realization that he would not be able to pilot without both eyes tumbled over him like bricks. 

“Did you kill them all?” he asked, tongue thick and clumsy. 

She paused once more. “I killed two of them. You killed one.”

Tex laughed. It was a small enough victory for his lost eye. “Good.”

“You’re a strange man.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. You’re pretty unusual yourself, miss…?”

She stared at him a long moment, gaze harsh and judging. She must have deemed him worthy enough to deign to speak to. With a sigh, she offered, “Krolia. My name is Krolia.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Krolia. Would have been nicer to meet you under better circumstances, but all the same—thanks fer saving my life.”

Krolia hummed, dropping the bloodied rag she had been using and reaching for a small device. “Hold still while I seal your wound.”

“Any chance that thing can give me back my eye?”

“Your eye is not missing.” 

Before he could ask further questions, she clamped her fingers around his jaw, holding him steady while she pressed the curved head of the handheld tool to his flesh. A brief, searing pain made the man wince, but it was over before he could even utter a cry of pain. The lady sat back, dabbed once more at the wound, and began tucking her tools away.

“Your vision should return shortly. A varga or so. The scar will be permanent.”

Tex pressed his fingertips against the ridge of his eyebrow. There was a lump of flesh where his thick eyebrow had once been, running vertically from temple almost to the top of his forehead. Not so bad a wound, considering the circumstances. 

“Were you hurt?” he asked, dropping his hand.

Krolia raised a brow at him. “I am fine. Why are you so concerned about my welfare?”

“You did save my life.”

“I held a gun to you.”

True enough. “That aside, I have a feeling you and I have more in common than we realize. Had I not come across you right after you landed, maybe our encounter would have started off on a better foot.” 

She stared at him blankly. 

“My job is to protect earth first,” he went on, “but my goal is to improve relations with our alien neighbors. We know that you and your kind have been here, we just don’t know why. From everything I’ve learned, your kind don’t seem to be interested in harming humankind. My guess then is that you’re looking for something.”

“And if I were?” She snapped.

Tex shrugged. “Maybe I could help you.”

Help. Krolia almost laughed at the thought of this small human assisting her on her mission. She had already broken protocol by allowing the man to live; her presence on earth was meant to go unnoticed. All trace of her was meant to be unknown. Yet there she was, having not only saved the human, but dragged him to safety and tended his wounds. It was the least she could do, Krolia reasoned; the man had assisted her in a deadly shootout. Likely, she would have been able to hold her own. Even so, she was begrudgingly grateful. 

“You are unique to your people, I can tell. You say you know of my kind and of our technology and armor.” His shooting had proven as much. “Tell me more.”

Why not? Tex thought. He had already committed treason by disobeying direct commands. Was it really treason, spilling secrets of alien encounters and stolen technology if he were telling it to one of the aliens themselves? His mind was still a bit jumbled to weed through the particulars of the matter. 

“I’m not really supposed to say, but seeing as you might be able to help me convince my peers of impending war, I may as well. No one would believe me anyway if I told them I had spilled it all to an alien.”

Krolia sat mute; she understood the demands of protocol...and the reality of needing to break them. 

“Okay, my lady. I’ll tell you what I know. The Galaxy Garrison—that’s where I work—began a century or so ago as a secret government branch focusing on the research of alien life. The first real success the garrison had was from a crash site in New Mexico in 1947.”

=

There was no casually slipping into the garrison after the campus had been on lock down, so Tex did not even bother. He walked through the paved paths of the commons, through throngs of people, past his peers. No few wary looks were thrown his way. That, he had expected. Although he hadn’t yet caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror, he knew he was haggard looking, unkempt, and still bloodied. His undershirt was soaked in dried blood and when Patterson came across him in the halls, the man’s jaw dropped.

“What the hell happened to you?!”

Tex paused, turning to one of the bay windows of a conference room and getting a slight peek at his reflection. He looked even worse than he thought. 

“Ugh...”

“Iverson has been looking all over for you! His crew brought back some debris last night! They’re putting together the team now.”

Iverson. Tex had forgotten all about the team sent out to collect the decoy craft. Of course his expertise was wanted now. He supposed it was for the best though. Had a whole group of them gone out and accosted Krolia, he thought it likely she would have slaughtered them all and slipped away into the desert before she could be detected. 

“I--”

“Kogane!” a voice bellowed behind Patterson.

They turned, finding the hulking visage of Iverson stalking through the halls towards them. Officers parted like the sea for the seething instructor. He stopped before the two, mouth taut in a grimace.

“Kogane, where the hell have you been?!”

After the night he had had, Tex was feeling like a petulant child. His entire world had shifted; the universe had expanded. It was baffling, humbling, and frightening all at once. He was in no mood to be talked down to and harassed. 

He stared at Iverson levelly. “Out.”

“The premises were under lock down, Kogane!”

Tex shrugged. “No one questioned me when I left.”

His smart remarks had the intended effect. Color rushed to Iverson’s cheeks, steam all but oozing from the man’s face in his boiling anger. “Get cleaned up and report to hangar D! You’re assigned to the deconstruction team!”

With a tired blink, Tex offered a weak handed solute and continued on down the hall. He heard footsteps chase after him and Patterson was at his side. The man eyed his bloodied clothing and the new scar on his brow. 

“So...really, where were you? What happened, Tex?”

What a story he had to tell. Of course, he knew he could not tell anyone; he could not run the risk of people actually believing him and reporting him to the garrison authorities. 

“What happened,” he echoed, a delirious laugh escaping him, “well...I met a woman. That’s what happened.”


End file.
